Recent reviews by FireSuperiorityComplex

Kingdom Come: Deliverance is one of those games that prides itself on historical accuracy, open-world freedom, and deep roleplaying. At first glance, it seems like it delivers—but once you actually get into it, that freedom is mostly an illusion.

The game forces you into the role of Henry, a blacksmith’s son, and no matter how much it claims to offer choice, you are always Henry. There’s no creating your own character, no alternate backstories—just Henry, whether you like him or not. And the problem is… he’s not very relatable.

Sure, the game tries to make him a “normal guy” who gradually becomes a hero, but I never felt connected to him. His motivations are clear, his journey is well-structured, but there’s something missing—he never truly feels like “my” character. Other RPGs allow you to inject your own personality into your protagonist, shaping them based on your choices. Here? Henry is Henry, and no matter how much you tweak his skills or dialogue, he never really feels like an extension of the player.

The dialogue system is contrived, often railroading you into pre-determined choices that don’t actually change much. Sure, you can pick different responses, but the outcomes rarely feel meaningful. It’s the kind of system where the game pretends you have agency while quietly nudging you down the same path.

The combat is clunky—which some fans argue is “realistic,” but realism doesn’t always mean fun. It’s frustrating at first, and while it does get better, the steep learning curve doesn’t feel rewarding so much as exhausting.

That said, it’s not all bad. The world itself is stunning, and the attention to detail in medieval Bohemia is impressive. The armor, the landscapes, and the period-accurate designs make it one of the best historical settings in gaming. The story, while restrictive, has its moments, and if you can embrace the jank, there’s enjoyment to be had.

But is it overrated? Absolutely. It sells itself as a game full of freedom and deep roleplaying, but in reality, you’re stuck in Henry’s shoes, making dialogue choices that don’t matter, in a world that looks open but isn’t as free as it seems. If you love history and can tolerate awkward combat and a restrictive RPG system, it’s worth a try. But if you’re expecting The Witcher or Elder Scrolls levels of roleplaying freedom, you’ll probably walk away disappointed

Europa Universalis IV – The Ultimate “Suffer Now, Enjoy Later” Simulator
Before I got into Europa Universalis IV, I bought it, got overwhelmed, and refunded it. Three times. Then, I bought it again. This time, I had a friend hold my hand through the brutal learning curve, because let’s be honest—this game does not care if you understand how it works.

Years later, I tried to return to it after a long break. Big mistake. I booted it up, looked at all the menus, and immediately realized: I had no idea what I was doing. Again. It’s the kind of game where if you don’t play for a while, you basically have to relearn everything from scratch. Nothing about EU4 is intuitive. The UI? Cluttered. The mechanics? Complicated. The tutorials? Might as well be written in Latin.

And yet… I still recommend it.

Because despite the suffering, despite the hours of not having fun while just learning how to play, I put 363+ hours into it. Clearly, I saw something in it that kept me coming back. Once you break through the barrier of confusion, EU4 becomes an incredibly deep and rewarding experience.

So if you’re willing to spend hours struggling, being confused, and questioning your life choices—all for the eventual payoff of mastering a grand strategy masterpiece—yeah, Europa Universalis IV is a pretty damn good game.

But I prefer Crusader Kings personally.

The premise of This is the President is simple: you’re a corrupt criminal who, somehow, inexplicably, becomes the President of the United States. How? Who knows. The game never really explains it, and it’s best not to think too hard about it. Your entire motivation? Passing a constitutional amendment that gives you lifetime immunity so you don’t get arrested the second you leave office. Totally normal stuff.

To pull off this ridiculous plan, you have to become wildly popular—winning over the public and Congress to push your insane amendment through. But then, in an absurd twist, you must become deeply unpopular and deliberately lose re-election… because… reasons? The logic behind this is as shaky as the game’s grasp on actual politics.

And that’s where things get weird. The game leans into a subtle liberal bias that quickly becomes frustrating. If you want to be popular? Do the “good” liberal thing. If you want to be unpopular? Either do something completely insane… or just enact conservative policies. Because apparently, in this world, conservatism is inherently unpopular, which anyone who works in actual politics knows is ridiculous.

Then there’s the forced backstory. The game gives your character random personal traits, like being bisexual, which feels oddly shoehorned in with no impact on the actual story. It’s as if the game wants to throw in edgy or “progressive” elements just for the sake of it.

As someone who works in professional politics, I found it really hard to suspend my disbelief. The political maneuvering, the absurd motivations, and the bizarre portrayal of public opinion make House of Cards look like a documentary. But despite all that, it’s still kind of fun in a wacky, B-movie sort of way. If you’re willing to embrace the nonsense, you might get a laugh out of it—but don’t expect any real political insight.

Game of Thrones: A Telltale Game Series – A Tale of Betrayal (Both in Story and Development, and Also in Availability)
If there’s one thing Game of Thrones taught us, it’s that life is cruel, unfair, and no one is safe. Fittingly, Game of Thrones: A Telltale Game Series delivers that same gut-punch—not just in its story, but in the fact that it ends on a massive cliffhanger that will never be resolved because of the ill-fated collapse of Telltale Games.

But hey, that doesn’t really matter anymore—because you can’t even buy it on Steam. Like so many characters in Game of Thrones, this game was brutally erased from existence, delisted from the store with no chance of return. Unless you already own it or find some alternative means of playing, it’s as good as gone.

Not that you'd be missing much in terms of agency. Telltale was famous for making you feel like your choices mattered, but let’s be honest—they don’t. No matter how cunning or careful you are, the story mostly funnels you down the same miserable path, with only minor differences in who dies now versus who dies later. It’s Game of Thrones, after all—everyone loses eventually.

And yet, despite all that, it’s still an engaging ride. The writing, voice acting, and atmosphere feel authentic to the show, and the tension keeps you invested—right up until the final episode drops a brutal cliffhanger that will never be answered.

Would I recommend it? Not like it matters—you can’t buy it anyway.

Let’s be honest—Detroit: Become Human isn’t really a video game. It’s an interactive movie with occasional button prompts to keep your hands busy. You don’t “play” Detroit, you watch it and nudge it along. It’s the kind of experience that makes you feel like you’re shaping the story, even if the major beats are already set in stone.

I’d call it a “Choose Your Own Adventure” game, but that phrase is copyrighted, so let’s just say it’s a “Select Your Preferred Narrative Diversion” instead. Jokes aside, while your choices do branch out into different scenes and character fates, the game eventually funnels you into just a handful of possible endings. You can take different paths, sure, but you’re still arriving at the same destination.

That being said, the ride itself is pretty entertaining. The story is full of heavy-handed themes about androids and humanity, sometimes subtle as a sledgehammer, but it’s well-acted and visually impressive. The game does a great job of making you feel like your choices matter, even when they don’t.

If you’re looking for deep gameplay mechanics, you won’t find them here. But if you’re in the mood for a cinematic experience with some “press X to doubt” moments along the way, Detroit: Become Human is still worth checking out.

Star Wars: Battlefront II had all the makings of a great game—stunning visuals, solid gameplay mechanics, and the backing of one of the most beloved franchises in the world. But years after its release, the game is practically dead. Finding a match is a struggle, and when you do, it’s often filled with the same small pool of players.

It’s disappointing because Battlefront II had real potential. The class-based system, large-scale battles, and iconic Star Wars locations could have made for an amazing experience. But compared to the original Battlefront II from the early 2000s, it just doesn’t have the same magic. The original had a more robust single-player experience, Galactic Conquest, and a sense of scale and strategy that’s sorely missing here.

The campaign is... fine. It has some enjoyable moments, but the story is a bit silly, and its attempts at twists feel predictable. Still, it’s a decent enough ride if you’re a Star Wars fan.

At the end of the day, Battlefront II could have been a classic, but a rocky launch, lack of long-term support, and a dwindling player base have left it as little more than a missed opportunity. It’s a shame because, with the right direction, this could have been the definitive Star Wars shooter.

It’s Call of Duty. A massive budget, a household name, and the 20th installment in the franchise. You probably already know what you’re getting.

The multiplayer is fast, addictive, and exactly what you'd expect—except for the constant chat bans, even if you’re not doing anything wrong.

The campaign tries to shake things up, moving away from the traditional rail shooter formula. A couple of levels give the illusion of freeform gameplay, but in the end, your choices don’t really matter. The story is predictable—spoiler alert: your jerk boss isn’t actually the villain, but surprise, your trusted mentor is.

On top of that, the game ditches its grounded military tone in favor of supernatural, horror-tinged weirdness, which might not sit well with fans of the classic Black Ops feel.

It makes a few dated attempts at innovation, but not enough to justify a recommendation. If you’re a die-hard fan, you’ll probably play it anyway. Otherwise, you’re not missing much.

As a fan of tactical strategy games—especially those in the vein of XCOM—I was excited to dive into Jagged Alliance 3. The game offers a deep and engaging tactical combat system, compelling mercenary management, and a world that feels alive with various factions, side missions, and decision-making opportunities.

However, the difficulty curve is absolutely punishing. One wrong move, one miscalculated position, and your squad can get wiped out in a heartbeat. While I appreciate a good challenge, Jagged Alliance 3 sometimes feels less like a tactical puzzle and more like an exercise in trial and error. Enemies hit hard, resources are scarce, and even veteran strategy players can feel overwhelmed at times.

That said, Jagged Alliance 3 does a lot right. It captures the gritty, squad-based combat the series is known for, and the variety of mercs adds personality and replayability. Despite the punishing difficulty, there’s a great game underneath that rewards careful planning and perseverance. If you're a fan of tactical strategy and don’t mind a steep challenge, I still recommend it.

Far Cry 6 is yet another Ubisoft open-world formula game, but somehow, it manages to feel even more uninspired than its predecessors. The same repetitive gameplay loop, tired mission structures, and bloated map design make it feel like just another checklist simulator rather than a fresh experience.

What’s truly baffling is how Far Cry 5, a game that came out six years ago, still feels superior in almost every way. The world was more immersive, the story had stronger themes, and the gameplay felt tighter. Far Cry 6 just feels like a rehash with more clutter and fewer memorable moments.

The one shining light in all of this is Giancarlo Esposito. His performance as the villain, Antón Castillo, is fantastic—he brings an intimidating presence and delivers every line with weight. Unfortunately, even a great actor can’t carry an otherwise forgettable game.

If you’ve played one Far Cry, you’ve played them all—and this one isn’t even the best version of that formula. Unless you’re here just to watch Giancarlo Esposito work his magic, it’s hard to recommend.

One step forward. Three Steps back.

When you work in the political industry, it hurts to play games like this.

I have been playing since the OG Political Machine in 2008. Somehow every time the game gets worse every 4 years. They add a much needed feature, then they remove some. Every Four Years.